Journey to Happiness
by logantriestowrite
Summary: One-shot piece revolving around the Dragonborn and Miraak.
1. Chapter 1

Flashes of her life flickered before her closed eyes, and the breath she was holding escaped her lips.

Her head collided with the ground beneath her causing her eyes to open only to see she was still in Apocrypha. She opened her mouth to scream, but no words came out. Tears blurred her vision, and a sob overtook her body.

She didn't want to die here. She didn't want her last moments alive to be spent her in this decrepit place.

Miraak moved into her field of sight, and she watched the First Dragonborn run to her before dropping to his knees beside of her.

He tore his mask from his face, and his mouth was moving, but she could hear no words. His eyes were wide with fear, and as each moment passed, his mouth moved more fervently.

With what strength she had left, she lifted her hand to his cheek and gave him a sad smile. "It's all right," she said softly, finally able to coax the words out. She was lying. Lying to him and herself.

His lips were moving, and she knew he was screaming at her. His hands were shaking her shoulders, but she couldn't help herself.

Her eyes were beginning to feel heavy, and she had no strength left to hold up her hand and it fell to her side.

"Dovahkiin!" Miraak yelled, and that's the last thing she heard.

Her eyes closed and she fell into a deep slumber.

The Last Dragonborn was trapped between the land of the living and the land of the dead much to Miraak's dismay.

When she had gone down during the fight at the summit, something snapped within him, and it felt as if his soul was being torn from his body.

He tried on multiple occasions to wake her or ease her passing, but nothing ever took root. It seemed as if the Last Dragonborn was destined to lay comatose for the rest of her life.

But he would not stop until he brought her back to life. He would stop at nothing. She would reawaken, and they would discuss just what she was to him and he was to her.

***Months later***

The Last Dragonborn gulped in a breath as her eyes scanned the room she was in. Where was she? She spotted a door at the far side of the room, and she stood. Or tried.

She couldn't move her legs.

She stared at the limbs and focused with all of her might, and she could not get movement out of either limb.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she choked on the cries overcoming her.

She was finally awake, and she couldn't move.

The door burst open, and Miraak appeared in her field of vision.

 _Miraak_.

The last time they saw each other, they were fighting on the Summit of Apocrypha, and she lost.

"Dovahkiin," Miraak said in a greeting to her and began making his way towards her.

Her breathing quickened and her body tensed at the sound of his voice. Maybe things were different. Oh how she hoped.

"Please," she cried and gestured to her legs. "I can't move."

Sadness washed over his face, and he raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you." He slowly walked over to her side and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her.

"What happened to me?" she asked.

That question broke something inside of Miraak, and he didn't know how to respond.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "You've been asleep for months, and you've finally awoken."

Anger bellowed within her. "I can't move!" she screamed and stared at him. "What did _you_ do to me?"

The malice laced in her words felt like a brutal slap across his skin, and he eyed the woman in front of him, trying to understand how she felt. Trying to understand how he would react if the positions were reversed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and met her fiery gaze. "I saved you."

Her lips turned up into a snarl before letting out an emotionless laugh.

"You _saved_ me?" She laughed again before narrowing her eyes. "You call this saving me!? I can't move!"

Sobs came over her again, and she buried her face into her hands. She was the fabled Dragonborn, and now she had been reduced to nothing. How would she be able to move on in this life if she had no way to walk?

A hand laid upon her shoulder, and something jolted within her. She looked up from her hands and stared at him with wide eyes. She didn't understand. She couldn't comprehend what that feeling was.

She stared at him for a few moments not daring to break the uneasy silence stretched between them. She wanted an explanation of just what that feeling was, and by the look in his eyes, Miraak knew exactly what it meant.

"You need to rest," Miraak said calmly and pulled his hand back away from her. "We will find a way to have you walking again, Dovahkiin. I promise."

She narrowed her eyes at him and mulled over his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but she knew that Miraak had been known to have a silver tongue. He could lie his way out of almost anything.

"Thanks, I guess." She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. This was not what she was hoping for when she had awoken. She had fought her way through so many dreams and fake realities to be here only to lose the ability to walk.

Miraak's fingers rested underneath her chin and gently forced her to look up at him. "You're going to walk again," he said. "I will do what it takes."

Another current passed through her body and she met his gaze. "Why?" she asked.

A faint smile graced his lips. "You'll understand soon." 

And with those words, he left the room and left her staring at the closed door.

Time passed, and the Last Dragonborn slowly regained feeling in her legs, and so began the painstakingly slow process of learning how to use her limbs again.

It was frustrating beyond belief, and she was sick of it. Her body had grown weak during her time of being immobilized, and she was tired of having to rely on Miraak's cultists to accomplish the smallest of tasks.

A heavy breath blew from her nose as she clenched her teeth and swallowed the need to scream. Beads of sweat pooled on her forehead and ran down her nose.

It was pathetic that a simple mundane task had turned her into a exhausted mess, but no matter the cost, she would keep going. She _had_ to recover. There was no other option.

She reached her bed just in time before her legs gave out from beneath her and let out a grunt as she hit the mattress with a thud. She loathed being this frail.

She turned her head when she heard the door opening behind her and watched Miraak make his way towards her. Her eyes rolled at the sight of him, and she sighed in annoyance at his presence.

He still hadn't told her what the energy constantly passing between the two of them was, and she was too afraid to guess. She didn't know if she truly wanted to know the answer, and so she stayed silent, for now.

"What do you want?" She huffed bitterly with narrowed eyes.

Much to her displeasure, a smirk spread across his lips. "I merely wanted to see if you were making any progress."

She sighed and crossed her legs underneath her and stared at him.

He didn't flinch beneath her harsh gaze, and it irked her. Most people would look away from the intensity, but it seemed he simply didn't care.

There was a playful glint in his eyes, and she wondered just what he was bothering her for. He had been busy over the last month and hadn't cared about checking on her before, and she doubted the sincerity of his actions.

"I can walk for a few feet now," she admitted and sighed. "But I'm still weak, much weaker than what I planned to be by now."

She watched him tuck a hand underneath his chin as he processed what she said.

He nodded. "Do not be ashamed of how far you've come, Dovahkiin. You are making remarkable progress."

Her eyes narrowed into slits at the compliment as she weighed the honesty in his words. She wanted to take the compliment and go on, but the mischievous glint in Miraak's eyes gave her pause.

"Hmph," was all she said.

He laughed, and her brows rose at the sound. Was he mocking her now?

"You do not believe me," he said lightly, the hint of laughter still present in his voice.

And much to her dismay, she enjoyed the sound of his laughter. It was a nice change since she mostly had memories of him taunting her in battle. It was nice to see him smile and seemingly act happy.

Maybe she could feel that way soon.

"Of course not," she shrugged. "Can you blame me?"

He shook his head no and lifted his broad shoulders in his own shrug. "I suppose not, Last Dragonborn."

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and rubbed at the nape of her neck. She was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm as if she were underneath some sort of spell.

"Ah, so you feel it too," Miraak said breaking the short silence spanned between the two Dragonborn.

She nodded and looked at him with wide, curious eyes. She didn't understand any of this. "What is it?" she asked.

He gestured to the empty spot on the bed next to her. "May I?" She nodded in approval.

She watched him close his eyes and take in a large breath before slowly exhaling. This had him rattled it seemed.

"There is no easy way to explain this to you," he said after a few minutes of thinking. "Are you prepared for what I'm about to say?"

She rolled her eyes at him before shaking her head. "Of course not, Miraak," she huffed. "Just spit it out already and get it over with."

"You are my mate."

Oxygen couldn't enter her lungs fast enough, and she struggled to breathe.

"You are mine," he said.

She couldn't fathom what he was saying. It couldn't be true, could it? He was oblivion knows how old, and she was merely in her twenty-sixth year. How could they be destined to be together? She didn't believe in fate.

"And I am yours."

 _I am yours._

Something snapped within her being when he said those words, and she looked upon him with disbelief. Was this possible? Was this what she was feeling when she was around him?

She shook her head, slowly coming out of the confusion. "I don't know what to say," she confessed and turned away from his penetrating gaze. She couldn't face him after what he just said because deep down, she knew. She knew he wasn't lying. She just wasn't ready to admit it, not yet.

"You don't need to say anything, Dovahkiin," he said easily. "You asked and I answered."

His words seemed cold, and the playful glint in his eyes had diminished. And she hated that she was the reason why.

He stood and walked away from her. She wanted to say something. The words were pushing at her throat begging for release, but she couldn't do it. She didn't know what else there was to say, if there was anything at all.

She sighed and leaned her head against the pillow. What a day.

*** Two Months Later ***

The Last Dragonborn had made remarkable progress and was almost back to her normal self. She exercised daily and had increased her strength and stamina. She no longer needed assistance from the cultists and even went out on a few minor quests all by her lonesome.

She felt normal.

She was able to walk again. She was able to run, feel the wind blowing in her face, and feel the sun upon her skin, and it was not a feeling she would take for granted anytime soon.

She stepped out onto the balcony and soaked up the beaming rays of sunlight. The warmth upon her skin reminded her of the warmth that would spread between her and Miraak when they were near one another, but she hadn't felt that warmth since he left her in her room that day.

They had gone out of each other's way to avoid one another. She couldn't face him, and it seemed the First Dragonborn was a coward as well.

But that was going to change today. She was done hiding.

She turned on her heel and marched up the steps into Miraak's temple heading straight for the throne room where he was entertaining guests from the Empire.

The heavy stone doors groaned as she pushed through them and into the room full of foreign dignitaries, officials, and noble families. Many smiled at her entrance and greeted her with a few warm words.

But she didn't care about them or their honeyed words. There was only one person whose words had any true meaning to her, and she marched straight for him.

Warmth bubbled from her toes up to the top of her head, and his eyes met hers from across the room.

It seemed as if everything around her became background noise and faded into nothing. She only wanted to reach him, and she didn't care about anything else.

She stopped when she stood only a foot in front of him and gave him a lazy, warm smile. "Miraak," she said in greeting.

He returned her smile with one of his own, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. "Dovahkiin." He eyed her up and down, and his smile grew larger. "You look beautiful."

It was true.

She had dressed up for this moment. She had gone as far as tracking down the best seamstress on Solstheim for the occasion, and the woman didn't disappoint. The dress hugged every curve and dissolved every flaw.

She had even let the cultists tie up her hair into an intricate knot on top of her head, and she painted her lips a deep red color.

"Thank you," she beamed and took in his appearance.

There was no denying the First Dragonborn was a handsome man. The finery he was wearing accented his muscular, yet lean frame. And she wasn't the only one to recognize this.

Many women were scowling at her for the attention she was receiving. Their feeble attempts to gain his hand were going unnoticed, and she smiled at the thought.

He was hers, and she was his. It would be no other way.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she quipped lightly with a grin.

He laughed at her words before a smirk formed on his lips. "I know," he purred.

He stepped closer to her and pulled her body flush against his, and the warmth that spread throughout her body was intolerable. She placed her hands on his arms, running them up and down the length of them.

He leaned in close to her ear, and her breathing hitched all together. "I would like to see you later."

The sound of his voice alone had her going weak at the knees, but she wouldn't back down. Her own soul was roaring back at his. "And you shall," she whispered breathless.

He pulled away from her, and she loathed the lack of contact with him. She wanted to continue touching him and mapping out his body with her fingers.

He lifted her hand to his lips and gave it a kiss. "Until tonight, Dovahkiin."

A wildfire spread throughout her body, and she sucked in a breath, trying to calm herself down. Her soul was begging to take him here and right now, but she forced herself not to. She could wait.

She lifted herself up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, his stubble scraping her delicate skin. "Until then, Miraak."

She turned away from him before walking out onto the balcony feeling the cool wind blowing against her heated skin. She smiled and stared up at the inky, black sky littered with bright stars.

Everything seemed to be falling into place in her life, and not only did she feel normal, she was happy. Undeniably so.


	2. Alternate Ending

It seemed as if everything around her became background noise and faded into nothing. She only wanted to reach him, and she didn't care about anything else.

The light present in Miraak's eyes diminished in an instant, and he was running towards her. And that's when she finally felt it.

She looked down at her abdomen and saw the tip of a sword protruding. Each drop of blood hitting the floor seemed to echo around the large room, and the sound was deafening. _Drip. Drip. Drip._

In an instant, the weapon was tore back through her body, and she felt it this time. A hair-raising scream left her mouth, and she struggled to breathe.

" _Feim zii gron_ ," she finally managed to make the words leave her mouth. The shout was weak and barely audible, but she felt the hum of the void caressing her clammy skin.

Her legs wobbled beneath her and finally gave out. Her body hit the cold stone with a sickening thud and all she could hear was the clashing of metal. _Miraak._

She drug herself upright enough to look upon the crowd, and the First Dragonborn was facing down several assassins. A strangled cry fell from her lips, and she pulled a small dagger from her boot.

She could only see Miraak's soul surrounding him in a whirlwind of color. Everything else had gone black, and with what she strength she had left, she hurled the dagger from her hands and let it soar, not caring about anyone but him.

A profound silence fell over the room, and it was suffocating. She felt herself begin to tremble. She could no longer see Miraak's soul shining. All the light had been gobbled up, and she was shrouded in darkness.

"Miraak," she called out, and she didn't receive an answer.

Tears filled her eyes and began to run down her face, and the sobs began to overtake her already throbbing body. She pressed her hands to her stomach and blood coated them immediately.

She was going to die, and she would never be able to tell Miraak how she truly felt and what she had wanted. It was over for them.

She took in a deep breath to calm herself and accept the fact that she would be leaving Tamriel shortly. She hoped Sovngarde awaited her, but the darkness that surrounded her was starting to prove otherwise.

"Dovahkiin." Miraak's voice was barely audible, but the sound of it caused her to smile. _He survived._

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her into his chest. The faint hum of magicka poured around her, and she could feel her skin begin to stitch itself back together, but it was too late. She had lost too much blood.

She fumbled in the darkness for his hands and held them in her own. "You can't save me, Miraak."

"Let me take care of you," his voice seemed to be farther away than before, but she let his magic caress her skin.

She leaned further into him and tucked her head beneath his chin. If only she would have admitted her feelings for him sooner then their lives together wouldn't have been cut so short.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer. "You cannot leave me. I will not accept it."

Her body began shivering and a coldness crept into her bones. "I'm sorry," she said and nestled further into him, trying to gain some of his warmth.

Her body was cool to the touch in his arms, and his finery was coated in her blood.

"I'm sorry," she said so softly he could barely hear it.

She coiled herself as close to him as possible, and he gently wrapped his arms around her, refusing to let her go. She couldn't leave him. He was finally ready to admit to her what he felt.

"Mii sil (my heart)," he breathed into her hair and shuddered. Her breaths had slowed, and her heartbeat was dangerously sluggish. "Don't go."

Her cool hands wrapped around his and squeezed with what strength she had left. "I'm sorry, my love," she whispered.

Her hands dropped from his own, and he choked on his breath. "Dovahkiin?" He ever so gently picked her up and turned her to face him.

Her beautiful eyes were still open, and they stared back at him. Dull and lifeless.

He swallowed the scream forming in his throat and held her in his arms until the morning sun rose.


End file.
